


fire for you

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Crying, Face Slapping, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Smut, dream spanks him with a belt like once, george is such a brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29672724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's an innocent game; and just so happens to be George's favourite.How far can he push Dream until he snaps? How much of a brat could he be until he gets exactly what he wants?“I-” he stutters, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I fucking hate you.”Dream presses a sweet kiss onto his lips. “I adore you.”
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 410
Collections: Anonymous





	fire for you

George has never had a problem with their arrangement.

A text, buzzing in his pocket. One that reads,  _ come over now.  _ He would leave whatever poor date he was on, or get up from whatever dismal supper he’d been eating in front of the TV. He would show up at his door, and be whisked into a flurry of fire-red kisses, wrapped in burning touches that trailed everywhere, on him, in him. 

Tonight is no different.

_ come over, _ Dream’s text reads, short and simple. George can’t deny the fluttering that bursts through his abdomen, as he glances down at his phone and reads it. He’s not gonna lie- he’d been waiting for the text since he’d gotten home from the last misadventure. 

It isn’t like he had anything better to do; he was lying in front of his TV, flicking lazily through channels, nursing a stemless glass of red wine in his hand. But he doesn’t want to be  _ easy _ . 

_ what for? _

_ you fucking know what for. _

It’s tasteless, it’s tacky. It’s a simple  _ arrangement _ , between  _ acquaintances _ who so happened to be incredibly sexually attracted to one another without so much as a hint of any real feelings. 

_ and what if i don’t want to? _

_ i’m not asking again, george. _

_ i hate you. _

_ you know that’s not true. _

It isn’t. He’s up and out the door in five minutes, shrugging a coat over his thin white t-shirt and black sweatpants. The drive there is tense with gilded expectation. George flexes his long fingers on the steering wheel, air haughty.

As much as he loved the softness of lovemaking, the tender touches, the soft whispers, he found so much more fun in the way he could make Dream lose control, grip George’s disobedient arms with enough strength to bruise, absolute filth dripping like honey from his lips, leaving George whining, keening, malleable in Dream’s palm. 

He takes the stairs two at a time up Dream’s apartment building, and pushes his weight onto Dream’s door handle. “I’ll leave them unlocked for you,” Dream muttered one time, after George complained about having to wait as Dream took his  _ sweet fucking time  _ to open the goddamn door. 

“George,” He hears, and he turns to see Dream lounging on his sofa, the absolute picture of perfection. He’s unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, leaving the tan triangle of skin exposed, a silver necklace lay peacefully in its centre. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d just ignored me.”

George shrugs off his coat, crossing past the familiar kitchen and into the living room where Dream sat. “And why would I do that?” He asks, climbing after the sofa arm to perch himself proudly on top of Dream’s lap, placing his small hands on Dream’s chest. 

“Because,” Dream starts, his voice low and warning. It chips away at George’s resolve, melting into submission that pools in the pit of his abdomen. “I wouldn’t put it past a brat like you.”

He blinks. His breathing threatens to shallow, heart racing, blood coursing in his ears. He wills himself to feign disinterest, to play the part, to rile Dream up.  _ To get what he wants. _

“Well,” he leans closer to Dream’s face until their mouths are inches apart, never breaking his gaze, heightened and sensitive and blown wide. His hot breath fans on Dream’s lips, and he can see Dream repress a shudder. “If you really think that lowly of me,” his gaze dips down to Dream’s parted lips, reddened and spit-slick. “I’ll be taking my leave.” 

He motions to move, climbing gracefully out of Dream’s lap when he hears a low growl, and Dream’s hands snake around his slim body, trapping him. “Don’t you dare move, George.” 

It’s not a suggestion, not a request. It sends shivers down George’s spine, and a shivering breath trembles out of George.  _ Good,  _ he thinks. _ I have you, right where I want you. _

“And what are you gonna do about it?”

Dream’s eyes glittered darkly with wanton desire, glowering at George. “You really wanna be a little brat right now, baby?”

_ Now the fun begins. _ “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” George murmurs lowly. He braces his hands on Dream’s shoulders, slowly rocking his hips upward, feeling the growing lust through his jeans. 

Dream only smiles, lips pulled cruelly. “You wanna play this game? We’ll play this game.” His hand reaches forward, long fingers wrapping tightly around the exposed column of George’s throat. “But know this; I  _ always _ win.”

He squeezes the sides of George’s neck, his flaming hands leaving imprints on his unmarred skin. George gasps, his vision blurring at the corners, and he can feel his groin tightening. He rucks his hips faster on Dream’s, chasing the high that threatens to destroy him. 

“Such a dirty little whore,” Dream coos, his grin masterful as he stares up at the debauched boy above him. “You gonna get yourself off on my thigh? You gonna cum without me even touching you?”

“Fuck you,” George spits, choked out and whining. “Touch me, you fuck.”

Dream tuts, his grip on George’s throat never relenting. “Now, George, that’s no way to talk to me.” His free hand palms George through his sweatpants, and George keens, bucking up into the contact. “If you want something, beg for it.”

“No.”

Dream tilts his head, recoiling his hand. George whines as he collapses forward, his hands hitting Dream’s chest to break his fall. Dream brings him closer, catching his swollen lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle, licking and biting and drawing blood. “I’m gonna give you another chance, George,” Dream murmurs into the kiss. “Beg for it.”

The word is high and whiny in George’s throat. “Please,” he breathes, feeling his eyes well up with tears. “Please, Dream,  _ please _ touch me.”

He feels Dream smile against his lips. “Good boy.”

Dream lets go of George’s throat, and he gasps for air, crisp and cool and full of promise. Dream lifts George to shimmy his sweatpants off his delicate hips, his fingertips burning hot against George’s chilled skin. He dips his fingers into the waistband of George’s boxers and pulls, letting his cock spring free. 

“You’re so hard already,” Dream whispers against George’s shoulder. He is; the head of his cock is throbbing red, leaking precum, and the friction of his boxers against his sensitive skin as Dream dragged it down slowly is torturous. He moans, high and breathy as Dream slides his bottoms off, tossing it behind him. 

Dream looks at him, eyes wild and untamed. He touches George scarcely, dragging fingertips against his cock, lingering touches leaving liquid fire in its place. “Pretty,” He murmurs.

“Touch me.”

Dream smiles. “Say it politely.”

George rolls his eyes. “Touch me, please.” 

He obliges, engulfing George’s cock with his huge palm. He strokes easy, slowly, and watches as he rips moans and whines from George’s throat. George isn’t small, by any means, but next to Dream, he’s miniscule. He loves feeling like this; small, tiny, caged in by Dream’s looming body. 

Dream shifts him so George’s back is flat on the couch, and Dream hovers above him, kneeling between George’s spread legs. He’s still so offensively clothed, and George’s hands fly up to hastily undo the buttons on his shirt. “Get this off,” he whines, taking each side of his shirt in each hand and ripping it down the middle. Buttons pop off noisily, and Dream grins. 

“That was an expensive shirt, Georgie.”

“I don’t care.”

He moves his hands from George’s cock to shrug off his shirt, tossing it behind him before returning to stroke George in tantalising motions. He dips down to lick a fat stripe up the pale skin on his throat, biting at the supple flesh. George gasps, his hands snaking around Dream’s shoulders. He bucks his hips up into Dream’s hand, hoping to make him go faster. “Please, fuck- fuck, faster, Dream.”

He feels Dream laugh above him, a rumbling low as he takes his hand off of George’s poor cock. George doesn’t even have time to groan at the loss of contact before he feels the sting of Dream’s palm against his cheek. He cries out in lustful surprise, his cock twitching as he feels his cheeks flush where Dream just slapped him.

“You’re not the one in charge here,” Dream reminds him, voice low and commanding. “You listen to me. You take what I give you, or I stop. Got it?” George stares at him blankly, mind clouded over with wanton desire.

Dream slaps him again. The sound is sharp, and George whimpers in desperate need. 

“Got it?” Dream echoes. George nods shakily, and Dream grins. “Subby bitch.”

“Fuck off,” George’s reply is half-hearted, airy. “I need you.”

“Need me where?” Dream’s hands slither down from his waist, down to his hips, to in between his thighs. 

“Everywhere!” George cries, bucking his hips in hopes of  _ some  _ kind of stimulation. “In me. Fingers- fingers in me, please.”

Dream hums. “Open your mouth, baby.” George obeys, and Dream pushes two fingers into his mouth. He gags at the sudden intrusion, but wraps his lips around them dutifully, coating them in spit. He moans around Dream’s fingers, large and wide and pushing in and out of George’s mouth. 

“Good pup,” Dream mutters, pulling his fingers out with a pop. “Spread your legs for me.” 

George does, letting his leg drape over the back of the couch as Dream settles back on his knees in front of him. He pressed a finger against George, pushing in at a cruel pace. George cried out, fingers scrambling for purchase on the sofa cushions, feeling the thick stretch of Dream’s fingers wringing him out. 

“You’re such a slut, Georgie,” Dream whispers, breath hot as he pushes a second finger in. “Fucked out and loose already?”

“Shut t-the fuck up,” George stammers, fisting the cushions. “More, more!”

Dream groans, but obliges, pushing a third, unlubed finger in. George takes it, of course he does, the painful drag on Dream’s thick fingers fucking him out the very precipice of human experience. He can feel his bratty persona slip, wanting to submit, succumb to Dream’s orders, be but a simple fucktoy for him to use and throw away. 

“Fuck,” Dream spits, pumping his fingers enthusiastically in and out of George. He hits a spot that has George crying out, his back arching as he pleads, begs for  _ more, faster, harder _ , and Dream can’t stop giving. “Right there, baby?”

“R-right there!” George forces out through broken sobs, unravelling and breaking and  _ god _ he just wants Dream’s thick cock pushing inside him, destroying him. “Fuck, Dream, I need your cock. I need it in me,  _ right now. _ ” 

Dream has half a mind to remind him who’s in charge, but looking down at the pathetic excuse for a man laying on his sofa, crying and almost cumming as three fingers stretch him out, he feels the smallest sliver of sympathy. “Fine,” he spits, pulling his fingers out quickly. George moans, hips rolling to fill the emptiness. “I’m going to ruin you, baby.”

George watches in muted wonder as Dream steps back, hands skilfully undoing his belt buckles. He remembers the offensive material of his own t-shirt still covering his body, and rips it off before laying back down. “Hurry up, bastard,” He mutters. “You’re taking so long.”

Dream slithers his belt off his belt loops and holds it menacingly in his hand. He shucks off his jeans hastily, and sits back down on the couch. His voice is eerily gentle, as he says, “Come here.”

George sits up, puzzlement crossing his features as he scoots closer to Dream. In one fluid motion, Dream hooks his hands under his knees and flips him over, dragging him so his ass is upward on Dream’s lap. 

_ Fuck. _ Fearful excitement bubbles in George’s chest.  _ He’s about to- _

The belt comes down without a warning. George wails at the sting on his skin, twitching as the cold air hits the reddening flesh. 

“Do I need to remind you again who’s in charge?” Dream asks, not a hint of pity in his voice. “Frankly, I’m getting tired of your attitude, whore.”

Wicked adrenaline courses through George’s veins. He turns back, facing Dream. They lock gazes for a second.

“Why don’t you fuck it out of me, then?”

He watches Dream’s jaw clench, and he can’t stop the smug smile that breaks out on his face. It’s his greatest pleasure in life, pushing Dream to his breaking point. Dream flips him back over, caging him in with his body, thick cock teasing his entrance. He spits into his hand, slicking up his cock before he pushes, his head breaching the tight ring of muscle.

George whines, sensitive and far from being prepped enough. It hurts gloriously, the stretch of Dream’s cock along his narrow walls, unrelenting and hard. Dream’s hands brace himself, holding himself up on either side of George’s head, and George’s shaking arms come up to grip them.

“Fuck, y-you’re huge,” he whimpers, the aching sensation too much, too fast. Where George would have expected him to bottom out he continues pushing in. “Dream,  _ Dream.  _ It’s t-too big, I c-can’t-”

“Yes, you can.” Dream grits through clenched teeth. “You wanted this, didn’t you? You want it to hurt. You want me to hurt you.”

George sobs, pathetic hands reaching down to brace Dream’s hips, trying to stop him from pushing anymore, but Dream catches them both in one hand, pinning them far above his head. “No.” he commands, looking straight into George’s eyes. “You wanted this, now take it.”

He shivers, shuddering breaths leaving his mouth. Dream’s right- he did want this,  _ God _ , he wants this so bad. He wants to be destroyed, ruined, taken apart by Dream’s massive cock and born again as he cums. He wants Dream to claim him, fuck him like this every day and every night. 

Dream finally,  _ finally _ bottoms out, his hips pressing flush against George’s ass. He lets out a grunt as he pulls out until only the head remains, and then slams right back into George. 

George lets out a strained moan, loud and embarrassing, but neither of them care. All that matters in this moment is the way Dream is fucking in and out of George at a punishing pace, and the way George is falling apart in his hands. The bruising grip on George’s hands never lets up, and he feels so seen, so exposed, so vulnerable. 

“Fuck, Georgie,” Dream murmurs. “You’re so tight around me. Taking me like a good little slut, aren’t you?”

George whimpers, nodding desperately. His toes curl as Dream keeps up the pace, every thrust in and out a glorious drag against his prostate, his sensitive walls. Dream dips down to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat, trailing up to his lips. The kiss is messy, sloppy- George is jostled around every time Dream slams back into him, letting out wordless moans. 

“Am I hurting you?” Dream asks sweetly, licking the shell of his ear.

“Not enough,” George chokes out, his hands wrapping around Dream’s shoulder, pressing red crescents into the skin. “Fuck me harder, ruin me,  _ fucking ruin me- _ ”

Dream goes impossibly faster, lewd noises filling the silent apartment as he splits George in half with his cock. A strangled cry tears from George’s throat, high and desperate. Dream focuses on railing into him, pushing harder and harder into George’s tight heat until he’s begging for mercy, until George is babbling about “ _ fuck, you’re so good, you’re so big, you’re fucking destroying me. Hurt me, Dream, hurt me harder-”  _

“Still going to be a bratty little bitch around me?” Dream murmurs into George’s kiss-bitten skin, pretty purple bruises lining his throat and chest. “Still going to give me attitude?”

George opens his mouth to say something, but Dream pushes deep inside him, ripping a hiccupped moan out of him. “I-” he stutters, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I fucking hate you.”

Dream presses a sweet kiss onto his lips. “I adore you.”

“Dr-Dream,” He moans. “I’m gonna- gonna cum.” 

Dream hums. “Not yet baby.”

George is shaking, wet tears streaking down his pretty face as he sobs. All he can feel- all that he’ll ever be able to feel- is Dream’s relentless pace, his cock thick and hot and wet inside George. Every sweet sound out of George’s mouth is a prize to Dream, and he pounds into him, chasing that high.

“P-please, Dream, I ne-need to cum,” He begs, his shame gone, his attitude fucked out of him. “Please, please,  _ please. _ ”

Dream chuckles. “You’re gonna come untouched, baby?” He teases, dragging his hands down George’s sides, purposefully ignoring the one place George needed. “Do I feel that good inside you?”

“ _ Yes,  _ yesyesyes,” George is babbling now, bucking his hips to meet Dream’s thrusts. “Please!”

“Cum for me, baby,” Dream pushes in deeper, making him writhe. George comes apart untouched, letting out a high-pitched moan as he paints his stomach with warm white. “Good boy,” he praises, pressing a kiss to his lips. “You did so well.”

Dream slows down his pace, about to pull out, but George whines. “No,” He gasps, wrapping his legs around Dream’s waist to keep him in. “You haven’t- you haven’t cum yet.” He throws his head back as Dream pushes back in slowly. “U-use me, please.”

“You want me to use you?”

George nods, mouth parted prettily. “I want you- you to cum inside,” he whispers, breath shallow. “Please? Please, I want- I want it all in me.”

Dream groans, his head dropping to rest on George’s shoulder. “Filthy slut,” he seethes, picking up the pace again. “You just love being used, don’t you?” He can feel his climax build as he pumps in and out of George. He squirms at the overstimulation, but he lies, pliant and loose, taking everything Dream gives him.

He can tell Dream is getting close by the way his hips begin to stutter, and his breathing shallows. “Cum,” George pleads, whining at the fullness against his sensitive walls. “Cum for me, Dream.”

Dream’s hips still as he groans, spilling inside of George. He can feel Dream’s cock pulse inside of him with the intensity of his orgasm, and he hums as Dream fills him up. They sigh together in exhausted relief, and Dream pulls out of George slowly, leaving his abused hole empty.

He dips a finger down to George’s rim, watching as cum trickles out slowly. He scoops a little bit on his pointer finger, bringing it up to George’s lips. 

George takes it beautifully, eyes drooping and tired looking up at Dream. He stares at George in wonderment. 

“My good boy,” he murmurs, and George hums happily around his finger. 

Dream reaches over to the coffee table to grab a bunch of tissues, cleaning George down carefully, tenderness wrapped in little touches. George aches everywhere, and he can already see the beginning of purple bruises littering his pale skin.

“You okay?” Dream asks as he snakes a hand under George’s knees and his back, scooping him up into his arms. 

George sighs in contentment, cradling his head into Dream’s chest. “Me okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> nice one
> 
> [fire for you](https://open.spotify.com/track/7MXMcK1xAEYzkfjKKwh6ry?si=_Uu7JHB3TfaOMvqsKIieVQ)


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